Over the phone, Price is still fuming. “Paul Donnelly isn’t being paid to interfere with their personal lives. That’s not how we do things, Akara. That wasn’t his job, and it’s an abuse of a bodyguard’s power—”
“An abuse of power?” I cringe and speak hushed. “Come on, Price, that’s an over-dramatization of the situation and you know it.” I lean back against the boulder but turn my head around the rock. I have a partial view of Team Apex in the growing dark. And while Banks has binoculars loose in his clutch, a cigarette burning between his lips, Sulli is between us on the phone too.
“Nona, slow down,” Sulli tries to whisper, a finger to her ear. Even though it’s not that loud in the woods. “You what? He what?”
Banks’ eyes dart from her to Team Apex.
Currently, the rock climbers are chatting and throwing wood on a fire. The cricket prank in Montana is happening alongside major high school drama back in Philly. Xander Hale is the only minor who agreed to be a client in my firm, and I didn’t think it’d be a point of contention until now.
“Ben’s bodyguard wasn’t there,” Price emphasizes to me again. “They’re teenagers. It shouldn’t have been Xander’s bodyguard versus Ben.”
My nose flares. He’s acting like Donnelly purposefully pushed Ben Cobalt into the pool. From the way he rehashed the details, it sounded like an accident, and I need Donnelly to recount the story himself.
Price hasn’t told me why Ben and Xander were arguing or whether Ben is upset with Donnelly. He hasn’t even brought up the parents’ reactions. He’s just fixated on the fact that Donnelly butted into family drama.
I lower my heated voice. “Have you talked to any of the parents?”
“No, not in length, but if Ben were my son, I’d want Donnelly fired today. I don’t want him near my bodyguards or the minors. Put him somewhere he’s not around Epsilon. Because the longer he’s on Xander’s detail, the more contact he has with SFE and the kids.”
My jaw tics. Laughter from Team Apex cuts my gaze back to their campfire. They still haven’t crept into their cricket-infested tents.
“You can’t tell me?” Sulli says into her phone, looking horrified. “Is it fucking bad? Alright, I know…I know.”
Banks reaches over Sulli and flashes me a text on his phone.
Banks. Thatcher. PLEASE don’t let Donnelly get fired. It’s not his fault!! – Xander
That’s a better indication that Xander still wants Donnelly to be his bodyguard. I nod to Banks while I tell Price, “It’s not your decision on what happens to my men. It’s going to come down to the clients. It always does, and if Xander wants—”
“What about his father?” Price interjects. “You really think Loren Hale will want Donnelly on his detail after tonight?”
“I’m not going to assume shit, Price. You haven’t talked to Loren. I haven’t talked to Loren. And if your men can’t be professional with Donnelly and my bodyguards, then that’s on you.” I’m boiling, but I keep my voice leveled, and before he tries to interject, I add, “I have calls to make. You need something, contact Thatcher.”
I hang up and dial a new number.
Sorry, Thatcher.
But I have to delegate, and Price’s venting is a waste of my time. It’s also a waste of Thatcher’s, but his single-word responses will have Price clicking end call faster than if he were talking to me.
Sulli slumps down against the boulder. No longer watching Team Apex as she listens to her sister rehash the drama. How is Winona even involved?
Confusion grows on my end. As I put my phone back to my ear, I peer over the rock again. No new movement.
Banks blows smoke behind his shoulder, then keeps hawk-eyed on our rivalry with the other climbers.
The line clicks. “What’s up, boss?” I hear whassup. Not only is his South Philly accent thicker than Banks’, but he sounds in a rush right now.
“Hey, Donnelly. We need to talk about what happened quickly. Are you still at the Hale house?” I look more at Sulli than Team Apex since Banks has eyes on them.
She whispers, “But you’re alright, squirt?”
Donnelly says hurried, “No, I’m off-duty. Already told Thatcher. I left the gated neighborhood about fifteen minutes ago. Is this about Price? I dunno what his beef is, boss, but he looked at me like I committed murder.”
“What happened?”
“I was on-duty, you know. Just protecting Xander at the Hale house.” No other client really requests bodyguards to go on-duty in the gated neighborhood, except Xander. I listen as Donnelly continues, “And he’d been outside near the pool talking to Ben.” Talking sounds like tawking. “They were arguing because Xander wants to enroll in Dalton Academy after Christmas break, and Ben thinks it’s a bad idea.”
Shock stiffens my joints.
Xander has always been homeschooled.
“He told Ben he feels confident about it. Ben is just worried about him. He thinks he’d get peer-pressured. But they got heated since Xander wants to at least try and Ben isn’t letting him do that,” Donnelly pants like he’s jogging.
Now I’m worried about him. “What are you doing, Donnelly?”
“Trying to beat the PPA.” He grunts in a sprint. “I only had enough quarters for seven minutes, and I parked four blocks away to go grab a hoagie.”
The PPA is Pennsylvania Parking Authority.
He rushes to say more. “And then Ben brought up what happened with Kinney at school. When he said that something like that could happen to Xander—Xander got upset.”
I’m surprised he knows about the Kinney Hale incident at school. It happened months ago. But as the head of security, her parents gave me all the details. I even learned that Kinney told the Rainbow Brigade first.
Don’t know how Ben or Xander found out, but I’m guessing Kinney told more people. It’s mostly likely that Donnelly was in the room when she confided in Xander. Because clearly Donnelly’s not asking me what happened to Kinney.
He continues, “Once Ben and Xander got closer to each other, Xander gave me a look.”
“What kind of look?” I ask.
Banks glances at me, interested in my call because of Xander. And if we weren’t trying to keep hidden from Team Apex, I would let him listen.
“Like back me up,” Donnelly pants. “And I know we’re supposed to stay out of family stuff, but you shoulda seen him, man. And all I did was step between them. Ben wobbled backwards. I didn’t touch him, I promise. He’s six-five and looked unbalanced, and I felt bad the moment he fell in. I startled Bambi, but I didn’t touch him. I tried to help him out of the pool, but Price came in and acted like I was some…” He trails off. “I didn’t touch him.”
I’m irate. That Price would make Donnelly feel like a fucking axe murderer. “Hey, I believe you. You’re not in trouble. Just log in your account of the event, send it to Thatcher. We’ll have a security meeting when SFO is all back together.”
“Sure thing.” He inhales a sudden sharp breath. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
“You get a ticket?”
“Yeah. Parking restrictions ended only three minutes ago.” The car beeps over the line. “Got a hundred-dollar hoagie in my hand.” He’s referring to the cost of the fine.
“Kitsuwon Securities will pay for the ticket,” I tell him, even though my company will be in a deficit the more I throw cash around. Hiring Michael Moretti wasn’t cheap.
“Nah, I’m off-duty. I got it.”
“You’re driving a security vehicle.” I watch as Sulli starts saying goodbye to her sister.
“Farrow let me borrow his Audi while he’s gone. That’s what I’m in now.”
He should pay the fine then. But I’m uneasy about it.
I’ve noticed that Donnelly has been tattooing more while he’s off-duty. He’s even brought some of his tattoo clients to the apartment. And I’m not positive what he’s blowing his money on.
Right now, he sounds like he has enough to cover the fine
, so I don’t argue with him.
Once we hang up, I tell Banks, “Xander’s okay.”
His shoulders ease.
Sulli ends her call with Winona and rotates towards the boulder. “Have they moved?”
“Still warmin’ their cold hearts,” Banks mumbles, cigarette between his lips. Yeah, sure enough, they’re all just gathered around the fire. Still chatting.
Still laughing.
Their vocal happiness is almost as infuriating and grating as my talk with Price. Like five sets of nails scraping a chalkboard.
I pocket my phone. “Is Nona okay?”
“No.” Sulli winces, looking between us, her voice grows hot as she tries to whisper, “She punched some fucking bastard in the hallway at school, and she won’t tell me why. Just that he did something disgusting. She said that she can’t explain more because Kinney told her in confidence or something.”
Shit.
I go cold.
The incident at school—Kinney must’ve also told the girl squad.
“You know what happened?” Sulli realizes off my expression.
I nod, and I’m going to tell them. From my angle, the guy involved is a security threat, and if Xander really does go back to school, I’ll need to tell the rest of SFO: Quinn, Banks, Thatcher. And I can see everyone finding out and Sulli being the only one in the dark.
She’s the last to know a lot of things with her family, and I have the power to change that.
Quietly, I explain, “At Dalton, a guy followed Kinney into an art supply closet and showed his dick to her. He pressured her to touch his penis to prove that she’s a lesbian.”
Sulli’s jaw is on the ground.
Banks mumbles Italian curse words.
“Fuck him,” Sulli growls after shock wears off. “Good fucking job, Nona.” To us, she reminds us like we forgot, “She punched him.”
Her dad must be flipping out. He’s been concerned Winona is being too much of a hothead like him. She can shift from a fun-loving sparkler to an explosive rocket. Sulli is more sparkler than firecracker, though she has that in her too.
I sit off of the boulder and tell Sul, “What goes around comes around.”
Banks nods, “Good riddance.” He passes Sulli the binoculars.
Eyeing us, she doesn’t focus back on the other climbers yet. “That’s not all.” Sulli looks scared, alarmed, worried.
Banks asks, “What’s wrong?”
“She got in trouble, didn’t she?” I realize.
Sulli nods. “A two-week suspension for punching that fucking creep.” We have no time to react. Team Apex suddenly unzips their tents.
As they crawl inside and start shrieking, the three of us rise to a stance. More visible to them as they race outside of their tents, shaking out their hair and clothes.
The one thing we’re not going to do is run away.
Banks takes a drag of his cigarette.
And the climbers shout loudly, “Fuck her!” and “That Meadows bitch!”
I bite down hard. Glaring.
“You want to say that to my face!” Sulli shouts.
They look over at us, as we stand up on the hill.
And after a death-match staring contest, they ignore us and start cleaning out their tents.
Banks says, “Looks like both Meadows sisters got revenge today.”
We should be clapping and celebrating, but the news about Winona looms heavy. And Sulli still seems tensed.
“There’s something else,” she says ominously. “Now that Winona doesn’t have school, she said my parents agreed it’d be okay if she flew out here.” Sulli looks from me to Banks. “I said yes. I couldn’t say no. I wouldn’t…” She pauses. “My sister is coming to Yellowstone.”
Shit.
As if things couldn’t be more complicated.
I reach out and steal the cigarette from Banks’ mouth. Putting it to my lips, I take the longest drag, filling my lungs. I pass it back as I blow out smoke.
And we watch Team Apex huff and puff around their camp, the only source of victory at the moment. And it’s fleeting.
35
SULLIVAN MEADOWS
My body is on fire.
Not the sexy kind of fucking fire, but more like the itchy can’t-stop-scratching-my-armpits kind of fire. It’s so un-sexy, but I don’t much care because there is no relief from these ant bites.
After our cricket retaliation, I thought we finally won. Four days of no response. Until last night. Team Apex went up a notch in the prank war and let loose fire ants into our tent.
Knowing Moffy is deathly allergic to fire ants made me even angrier. He wasn’t there (thank fucking God), but if Akara, Banks, or I had been allergic, the prank would’ve killed us.
I was so angry, I tried to not even give them the satisfaction of any reaction. Instead, the three of us just casually ditched the tent and slept in Booger last night.
Now, I feel myself reacting.
“I can’t believe we’re letting Team Apex win,” I say in frustration. We walk down the rows of RVs for rent. Banks and Akara flank me on either side, while the sales associate charges out front. He has the perfect RV to show us. Unless it comes with water balloons that I can sling at those climbers’ faces, it won’t be perfect.
Maybe it’s easier to concentrate on this pseudo-competition between Team Apex and us, than the romantic one where I’m playing referee and judge. It’s definitely helping calm my nerves, and considering Winona is coming to Yellowstone today, I’ll take anything to help scrub the words love triangle off my forehead.
“They’re going to keep escalating,” Akara tells me. “We have to walk away.” He’s in protect-Sullivan-Minnie-Meadows mode, which does not fit into a prank war.
Banks is rubbing lotion onto his arms. “Agreed. Next they’re going to do something that’ll be harder to clean. Like squirting silly-string in our tent—”
“That’s a great idea!” I clutch Banks’ bicep. “They’ll never see it com—”
“No,” Akara says. “It’s over.”
I slouch, limbs deflating with my fucking hopes. “I hate losing.”
“We know,” Akara and Banks say at the same time. They give each other an aggravated look, and then Banks passes me the bottle of lotion.
I take it just as the sales associate, Neil, stops in front of a white travel trailer. We already told him our basic needs. Sleeps 3 and weighs less than three-thousand pounds.
Booger has pulled four-thousand pounds of trailer behind her before, but for this trip, I’m not testing fate by setting new records.
“You can have a look inside,” Neil says, waving to the trailer. Akara goes in first and I follow. As I scope the area, Neil gives a play-by-play of what I see. “Bathroom in the back. Kitchenette in the middle and at the front is a Queen bed. The dinette area converts to a single bed.”
Banks brushes up against me as he squeezes into the small hallway. Our eyes hold for a long beat, a knowingness that we’re sort of together in a way. Dating. My lips lift, and I heat up a bit. I wince when he hits his head on the top of the trailer.
“Oh fuck.” I cup the back of his head. “Are you alright?”
“Yeah.” His shadow of a smile appears while he ducks, his eyes on me.
I’m still touching his head. Gripping his soft, brown hair, I’m really fucking loving the way he’s looking at me right now. His smile keeps growing.
My heart flip-flops.
I’m giddy, until I question how much of an insensitive asshole I’m being. Because Akara is right here. Watching.
His Adam’s apple noticeably bobs like he’s swallowing a rock.
I don’t want to hurt him.
I don’t want to hurt anyone.
Someone is going to get hurt, Sulli. I know. I fucking know, but I just hate that I keep sinking a knife in their hearts before I’ve even chosen.
Thankfully, Neil helps segue the moment. “Take a look around.”
There’s not much to s
ee, and I’m about to scratch this one off based on Banks hitting his head, but he beats me to it.
“Don’t worry about me,” he says. “It’s not like I’m doing jumping jacks in here. I’ll just be racking out, and I’d rather not let Booger carry a bigger trailer.” He rests his ass against the kitchenette counter and bends his legs a little, giving his neck a rest from ducking. “See? I’m good.”
Akara is already shaking his head, then drops his voice to a whisper. “We need to get a bigger one.”
“Why?” I frown. “This is close to perfect.”
He already knows my sister wants to sleep in a tent, and she understands why I’m switching to an RV.
Akara explains, “The Yale boys are going to ask where we’re all sleeping in this thing.”
“Fuck,” Banks says, realizing the same thing as Akara. But I still don’t see the problem.
My frown deepens. “I don’t get it. I’m taking the single and you two are cramming in the Queen. Right?”
Banks points to the dinette area, a table and two cushioned seats. “That doesn’t have a mattress.”
“So?” It still converts into a bed. There’s another cushion stored somewhere. The table lowers and the extra cushion goes on top. Winona won’t bat an eye, so why would Farrow and Oscar?
“The Yale boys won’t believe I let you sleep there over the bed,” Akara says. “It’s going to draw attention.”
“Cumbuckets,” I mutter and ignore a weird look from Neil. “Fine. We can find something that has a bunk.”
We all exit, and Neil claps his hands together. “We find a winner?”
Akara takes over, knowing that I don’t love small talk. “Unfortunately, it’s just a little small for us. We’d like to see another.”
Neil nods and looks between the three of us. “Maybe if I knew your situation better, I could help.” He eyes Banks’ height like that’s the sole problem. I’ve always been the one given a double-take for my height, so I know how it feels. But definitely not to the extent that Banks gets.
Neil asks him, “Are you sleeping in the bed or the single?”
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